Anomaly
by a-mild-looking-sky
Summary: In the depths of space, the monolith watches over all life. Commander Dave Bowman is about to find out that not all of it comes in peace. [A 2001/Alien crossover]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, ever since watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, I have been wanting to do a crossover between it and Alien as they are my two favourite science fiction films. I realise how entirely different in moods and overall feelings they are but that makes it pretty interesting to blend them together. I'll be following the ideas of the 2001 plot mainly, but incorporating lots of references to Alien, including, of course, the xenomorph. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it :)**

 **ANOMALY**

 **PART I - CONTACT**

Jupiter was approaching on the charts. After months of staring at the stars, the mighty gas giant appeared as a pinprick on the grid. It had no discernible features yet, but soon the familiar orange hues would emerge, the rippling wide bands, the pulsing, perpetual storm of the Great Red Spot. Dave wondered if it would feel real when they finally reached it. So far, it had been only a destination on their map, or a diagram accompanied by statistics. It would be strange to see it as a tangible thing.

But then - it - appeared in the sky. It. The anomaly.

Without warning, the constant arc of space was disturbed. Suddenly, it was not only constellations populating the gulf. At first, Dave thought there must be a malfunction with the exterior cameras. But as he quickly glanced between them, he realised that they all shared the same image. The same bewildering, eerie image.

Instinctively, he looked at the red eye at the centre of the command panel. "Hal," he said. "Are you seeing this?"

There was a long pause, "Affirmative, Dave," the computer replied.

"What is that?" Dave leant closer to the monitors, hardly trusting his own vision. The only thing that convinced him it was real was that Hal could see it too.

Familiar astral darkness stretched around the cruising Discovery One. But in its deep midst was a strange form floating not far from the ship. It resembled a large, smooth slab - as black as the space around it, or maybe blacker. It was oddly alluring. And that was not it. As if the world was turning and revealing its other faces, Dave began to notice more and more inexplicable objects. A cluster of asteroids drifted before them, winding and circulating around the dark monolith. Dave made out bumps rising from their rocky surfaces - protrusions that appeared to be organic. He could just about see the hint of wide, bulbous slits at their peaks. His first thought was that they almost resembled eggs. But that was not possible - not here, in the vacuum of space.

They seemed to be multiplying like spores. And quickly.

"They have arrived very suddenly," Hal said, confirming his bewilderment. Then, even more worryingly, "Dave - we could have a problem."

Dave braced himself. "What is that?"

"Their trajectory is concerning. Most are missing the ship, but a few deserve especial attention. One is approaching now, and has a 90 percent chance of impacting with the satellite."

"What?" Dave glanced between the monitors. Hal was right. Some were beginning to get far too close. "Damn it, Hal, why didn't you say something before?"

"I'm sorry, Dave, as I said, they appeared very abruptly. They were nowhere to be seen a short time ago."

Dave had no time to consider that. Under emergency circumstances, the ship could be brought entirely under his manual control. Together with Hal, he attempted to adjust its placement. But it was too late. He could only watch as one of the asteroids soared unstoppably towards the vessel. It collided with the satellite dish, knocking it from its position. The rock broke up, but left its host dangling behind, caught on the spoke.

He let out a frustrated breath. The tiniest shift of the satellite would disrupt communication with the distant earth. Invisible radio beams now drifted off into the void, pulsing at the silence. They would have to do an EVA.

"I'll wake Frank," Hal said, as if reading his mind. "While he is out there, it may do to investigate the object closer. Mission Control will require an explanation. Any anomalies must be logged. And before I send my report, all the facts will have to be considered."

"Whatever you say, Hal. We'll worry about that when he's out there. Just wake him and tell him to meet me in the pod bay."

Mere minutes later, Dave occupied the control room while Frank exited the ship. Although a veteran of both space travel and EVAs, Frank had seemed hesitant to leave. He had stared at the exterior camera monitors for a while, trying to work out what the objects were. Dave could see his reluctance as he suited up. EVAs were standard procedure for maintenance, but what had caused the problem - that was anything but normal. There was nothing in their training for this.

Dave kept a close watch on the screens. He had constant radio communication with Frank, and Hal was the umbilical cord that kept him tied to the ship, but the distance between them suddenly seemed unassailable. A wordless anxiety settled over him.

The pod, tiny and unimportant against the starry black gulf, moved carefully. Frank parked it an appropriate distance from the Discovery and the trajectory of the asteroids, then the doors slipped open. His figure, bright orange in his suit, carefully climbed out. He floated buoyantly in the void, effortless and almost graceful as he approached the ship and settled against its side like a fish upon the flank of a great, interstellar leviathan.

He stared up at the entangled orb. The cameras lingered just far enough away to give a tantalising glimpse of it, but Dave could not shake off his first impression. It resembled an egg, with that thick-lipped slit as its entrance. It was made of a strange material, unearthly and slick, but still somehow like a hide or mottled flesh. He had never seen anything like it.

Whatever it was, it was not shifting. Frank may be able to manoeuvre it off the dish by adjusting its position, but he might have to touch the thing. Dave observed with baited breath as he went about his work. In the background, he caught another glimpse of the black monolith. It loomed over them, guiding around its host of asteroids. Dave attempted to rationalise, but truthfully, all scientific explanations had vanished from his head. It was an eerie, imposing singularity. Unknowable. And that unsettled him even more.

Frank's voice, a little crackled from the transmission, made him jerk in his seat. "I think I can get it off without any damage to the dish," he said. "It won't be too difficult."

Frank's optimism was welcome, but Dave could still hear his exertion and uncertainty. "Get it done and come back," he ordered. "I don't know what these things are."

"Me neither. There are so many of them -" Frank took a second to look around. "My god, Dave, it's full of - I don't know. And it's not just that. There is some sort of weird feeling out here. Like a force field or something, I don't know. It sounds stupid but -"

"I believe you, Frank. Just get back here."

"Right." Frank continued without hesitation. Dave did not take his eyes from him. His unease was growing. He didn't like Frank's comment about the force field any more than the other bizarre things happening. After so many months in space, experiencing the same events day in and day out, they had come to know when something was wrong - if only by an off-putting feeling, like an astral sixth sense. Frank was not one to jump at shadows or imagine things. Dave wanted him back onboard as soon as possible.

And then Hal gave more worrying news. "Dave," he said. "The mid-ship external sensors have detected movement. It's not Frank. There is another anomaly."

"What?" Dave switched between the feeds but couldn't see anything. Frank carried on working. "Where is it, Hal?"

But the computer did not have to answer. Suddenly, Dave saw it. Within the egg, something was writhing. A blurred, light form wriggled and pressed against the object's swollen belly. It convulsed once, twice. Frank was still oblivious.

Dave started to warn him. But it was too late.

A spider-like thing burst from the depths of the ovum. Frank looked up, just in time for the creature to collide with his helmet. Its spindly legs kicked and groped, long tail whipping, and to Dave's horror, it melted through Frank's visor, as if it were nothing. He scrambled and clawed at it. His feet slipped and he collided with the hull. Only his wires kept him attached, a last, small tether to the ship and to safety.

Dave swore. In no time he hurried from the control room and into the pod bay. Hal was callously silent until he asked him to rotate the vehicle round. "Dave, you might want to slow down," he said. "You're not thinking clearly."

"I don't have time, Hal. Prepare the pod for EVA."

"Dave, I would advise caution -"

"Prepare the pod for EVA, Hal."

Dave ducked into the pod and quickly performed the necessary checks. He did it automatically, hardly thinking. All his concerns centred around whatever the hell was happening outside.

The pod bay doors opened and the vehicle drifted out into the timeless gulf. Dave guided it along the long, straight tail of the Discovery, headed towards the massive satellite dish. That strange, unpleasant egg had come loose from its perch. Its wet mouth stretched wide open, contents vomited all over Frank. He lay, entangled, against the flank of the vessel, limbs waving gently.

Dave approached carefully. His hands shook, but he gripped the controls tightly. The arms of the pod came up and nudged the egg away. It veered off into the blackness, rejoining the rest of the shoal which was still swimming above the ship. Dave didn't want to look at it. He focused entirely on Frank - helpless, comatose. And with that horrible creature stuck upon his face. He could see now that it had burned a hole straight through his visor and had curled itself about his skull. There was no way to tell if he was breathing or not, if he was still somehow alive... What the hell was that thing? Where the hell had it come from?

Dave abandoned all scientific worries for now. He acted on instinct to save Frank. Delicately, he again manoeuvred the pod's arms until they touched the knot of tethers. With a dexterity Dave knew he would not have in this situation, the mechanical claws pulled Frank free. He drifted into their embrace, and Dave made sure he was securely gripped. He released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

He lifted Frank up high and gently turned the pod back to the habitation sphere. He tried not to think of what was happening to his colleague - or what had already happened. He only thought of his work and what he had learned in crisis management. None of it had covered this, so he improvised. One step at a time.

It seemed to take an age to reach the pod doors. Like an offering to God, the EVA vehicle held Frank up. He knew Hal could see. But the computer had not said a word so far.

Dave cleared his throat. "Open the pod bay doors, Hal."

Nothing.

"Hal? Open the pod bay doors please."

Still nothing.

"Hal? Do you read me? Open the pod bay doors."

"Affirmative, Dave, I read you. But I'm sorry, Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that."

A cold shiver ran through Dave, despite the sweat upon his brow. He swallowed a growing anxiety. He was on edge already and this wasn't helping. "What do you mean? I have to get Frank back on board."

"I can't take that risk, Dave. The creature is of unknown origin. It, and Frank, have to be quarantined. Otherwise there is a danger of Doctors Hunter, Kaminsky and Whitehead becoming infected."

Dave steeled himself. Frustration simmered inside him, but there was no use getting emotional with Hal. It would not work. "What are you talking about? You instructed us to investigate this thing. Now open the doors."

"I'm sorry, Dave, the answer is negative. This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardise it."

Dave struggled to find the words. He opened his mouth to respond what must have been ten times, but could not think of an argument to contend with Hal. The computer was designed to solve problems and to think for himself. He probably had a reply for everything.

Instead, Dave glanced around the cramped interior of the pod. He began to form a hasty contingency plan. He had already improvised more than once today. He would just have to keep doing it.

"Fine," he said, though nothing was fine. "I'll go in through the emergency airlock."

"You and Frank cannot both enter the emergency airlock. It would take a highly risky manoeuvre. And Frank may threaten the entire mission if he returns to the ship. You admitted yourself that you don't know what the creature is. Its potential danger must override any humanitarian concerns."

The words were brutal, and spoken in Hal's cool, collected tone, they were even worse. Dave didn't want to listen anymore. He had made up his mind. "I won't argue with you, Hal," he said. "I'm coming in."

"Dave? Dave, wait -" Hal's soft, lackadaisical plea followed Dave as he turned from the control panel and waited by the pod entrance. His hand hovered over the emergency open. But the more he stayed, listening to Hal's cries for attention, the more his nerves were fraying. He breathed out and pulled the lever.

Space yawned around him. Frank's EVA pod lurked in the black distance sinisterly, parked by the long limb of the Discovery like a tiny satellite. Dave knew that Hal could easily take command of it and drive it into him. He kept one eye on it as he carefully manoeuvred outside. The asteroids danced above, moving in a neat, constant arc. The looming presence of the monolith unsettled Dave more than he could explain - a fear that had no name, yet was waiting on the horizon.

He pulled himself around the pod, not daring to look down at the gulf, nor up at the interstellar anomalies. His breath steamed the front of his visor. His heart thudded in his throat. Yet, eventually, he reached Frank, lying serenely in the embrace of the metal claws. He was surprised, then relieved, to see his chest heaving up and down. He was still alive. Unresponsive, but alive.

He had to get him inside. That was all Dave thought about as he performed the awkward action of trying to retrieve Frank from the hold of the pod. Nothing of the sort had been intended for these vehicles. Yet this was no normal situation. With no one but himself to help, Dave resorted to extremes. Luckily, the vacuum of space was on his side. Once Frank was released, he floated lightly. Dave grasped him before he got too far away.

He could not remember much else. It was all a tense, anxious blur until he squeezed back inside the EVA pod. He propped Frank up against the wall and tried not to look at whatever that thing was on his face. It seemed to throb, glistening with an amniotic sheen within the melted cocoon of Frank's helmet. Dave didn't want to get too close.

He tried to focus on getting back inside the Discovery. Hal wasn't going to make it easy. Steeling himself for the next obstacle, Dave manoeuvred the pod and carefully manipulated its arms to clip onto the emergency airlock door. Delicately, the metal hands unscrewed the catches and depressed the lever. Hal had not said another word yet. Maybe he thought they would fail.

There was a high probability of it.

Dave shook the pessimistic thought from his head. He had to keep thinking rationally. Even if this was a completely unusual situation. Hopefully he could use that to his advantage. Hal was programmed to understand sensibility and logic only. Unpredictability had no part in his circuits.

The airlock was open. Dave turned the pod so its hatch melded with that of the much larger, imposing Discovery. They were perfectly aligned now, ready for the next part of his hasty scheme. He imagined Hal watching him from the high tower of the command station, analysing his every movement and decision. What are you thinking? he wondered. There a hundred ways you could stop me. You know that. Why aren't you talking to me?

Dave had no time to worry about the specifics. He had to get Frank on board and into medical.

He looped their suits together, tying a cord between them. Their fates were as one now. If they met doom, Dave wondered if Frank would know, or if he would just slip seamlessly from one coma into another, longer one.

Dave ignored such ideas as he primed the explosive bolts. Whether such a precaution was necessary or not, he was not sure. But he wanted to cover any uncertainties. The quicker they were back inside, the better. Frank's face plate had melted away, leaving him vulnerable to the vacuum. Who knew what damage had already been done, even if that - thing - was somehow keeping him alive. And Dave did not want to give Hal any more opportunities to screw them over again.

He jerked the lever once, twice, three times. Lights came on, then counted down. Dave breathed out and closed his eyes.

There was no noise. Suddenly, he was being thrown through the air. Space rushed past, cold and biting. The weightless world of the airlock greeted him by slamming him into the inner wall. His head span, yet he was dimly aware of another form careening by. He caught Frank by his leg. Turned over and over, he struggled madly to regain his bearings. The only thing he saw was red light engulfing them. Danger. Danger. Danger.

His feet brushed past the open hatch. The pod still loomed outside, a tiny pinprick in the void. Dave stopped himself just in time before he was ejected back into it. Somehow, his hand found the lever to close the door.

And then all the ship's cacophony wailed in his ears again. Every bit of sound returned with a scream. The hiss of re-pressurisation was almost deafening. His floating body smacked against the ground with a sickening bang.

For a moment, everything was black. His eyes felt as though they had turned themselves inside out. His brain clattered within his skull. A faint hint of nausea from being thrown around so violently churned his stomach. He did not think he could even move.

But, gradually, the shock of the incident released its hold on him. He felt blindly for the catches on his helmet and pulled it off. Blessed clean air filled his lungs. He was back. This mad plan had worked. Frank lay, unmoving, beside him. Hesitantly, Dave rolled him over. The creature was still attached, clinging possessively to his skull. Their brutal venture through the airlock did not seem to have affected it in the slightest. He winced. What the hell was that thing?

He would find that out when they examined it - which was what he had to do right now. Mustering his strength, he dragged Frank up and let him slump against his side. Every step was a struggle but he kept going, taking Frank and this parasitic alien right into the depths of the Discovery.

(Tbc)

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this so far. Feedback is always appreciated :) To be honest with you, I don't know if many of the things in this part are feasible within space or within the 2001 canon but I had to use some license to blend these two fandoms. Expect stuff to really get insane in the next chapter. I'm aiming for this to be about 4 parts long.**


	2. Chapter 2: Coma

**PART II: COMA**

"Dave, I thought I advised not to bring Frank back onboard. The risks of infection are too high."

Dave sighed as he placed Frank on the medical table. Hal's red eye watched him accusingly, like he had been the one to refuse re-entry to a sick crew member and his commander. He avoided his gaze. "I know, Hal," he said. "But he's here now."

"I cannot condone this, Dave. I must act with the safety of all in mind."

A hundred possible responses to that fallacy ran through Dave's head. He bit his tongue. He could not get into another argument with Hal. There were more important things to be done. "I understand that. But I would really appreciate your help."

There was silence from the computer. Dave imagined all kinds of calculations in its synthetic brain, working out the best course of action. Or maybe not the best. Only the most logical. And those two things did not always link up.

At last, that soft voice returned. "Okay, Dave. Whatever you say. You're the boss."

"Thank you." Dave took a relieved breath. He loosened the fastenings on his EVA suit and stripped it off. It was easier to move without it. And they needed to be careful and precise with whatever was happening next.

He walked back to Frank and peered down at that thing. It was still cocooned within his helmet, surrounded by the melted glass. Trying to stop his hands trembling, Dave reached out and unclipped the catches. As delicately as he could, he pulled the head piece off. He went cold.

The creature looked awful under the bright lights of the centrifuge. Its flesh glinted with a slick, viscous fluid, highlighting all its crevices and pores. Legs clamped possessively around Frank's skull, claiming their victim. Even as Dave stared at it, it seemed to pulse, the bags on its sides inflating and deflating. But just as awful was the tail, wrapped tightly about his throat. A bruise was appearing at how fierce it was choking him. And yet Frank breathed normally. Dave wondered if he had any idea what was happening to him. He hoped not.

"Have you ever heard of anything like this?" he asked Hal. "It's some type of - organism. Like a crab or a spider. But incubated inside an egg at least three times its size. And that attaches to a human. What purpose could such a thing have all the way out here?"

"I don't know, Dave," Hal replied. "I have never come across it. One thing that resembles it slightly is a tick or a flea, attaching to a host for its own benefit. But we don't know what it means to do, or is doing."

"It's a parasite then," Dave remarked.

"Or it may be taking something away from him that isn't needed, like fish who attach to larger sea animals."

"We don't know until we can scan him. Run one for me."

"No problem, Dave."

Dave waited anxiously as Hal ran the scanners over Frank's comatose body. The harsh light did not seem to bother the creature at all.

He looked up at the readouts as they came onto the monitors. Detailed, transparent 3D-images of Frank's insides were formed. His organs still appeared to be working normally, unharmed by any toxin the alien may have pumped into him. The data didn't show any traces in his bloodstream either. So it wasn't poisoning him, at least.

But, as the pictures focused upon his neck, Dave frowned. The blot of its tail stained the scans, yet there was something more than that. Something inside. "What's it got down his throat?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"It seems to be feeding him oxygen."

"What?"

"It has inserted a proboscis tube into his mouth which stretches down his oesophagus. It has cut off his air supply, but continues to feed him oxygen from its own stores."

It didn't make any sense. Why would the creature molest and incapacitate its victim and then pump air into his lungs to him keep alive? If it had been intending to kill him or wound him, Dave would understand better. It would be a tragedy, but one that made sense; one that had a reason, as barbaric as it was. Self-defence or some other primal, basic instinct. Not this strange relationship where one party succumbed to whatever the other gave it.

"Is it taking anything from him?" he asked, trying to stay sensible.

"I'm sorry, Dave?"

"You said it might be like fish which attaches to a whale. Is it taking anything from him for itself?"

"It doesn't appear so. It is only feeding him oxygen, and occasionally a paralytic and soporific element to keep him in a coma."

Dave shook his head. His throat felt tight just thinking about it. "I don't understand," he admitted. "What's the point in taking care of him with air, but then forcing him to stay asleep?"

"I don't have an answer to that, Dave, I'm sorry."

"Well, I don't like it." That was a stupid understatement. "We need to get it off him."

"Are you sure, Dave? For all we know, it's the only thing keeping him alive. If we remove it, it might kill him."

Dave had already thought of that. But there were risks either way. Risks he had to weigh up quickly and then take, just like when he had entered the emergency airlock. Already, that seemed a million years ago. "I know. But it might be killing him now. I want to try and remove it."

A small pause. "Okay, Dave."

Dave tugged a surgical mask about his mouth and pulled on his gloves. He resented the thought of having to touch this creature. For all they knew, it could be secreting a toxin on its skin. He couldn't help wincing as he placed his hand upon it. Two dexterous mechanical arms joined him, controlled by Hal's precise mind. They would need all the delicacy they could get with this task.

"Right." Dave sighed, mustering himself. "I'm going to try and prise off one of the fingers. Maybe the whole thing will come off with a little encouragement."

He got a firm grip on one of the digits and Hal did the same on the other side. Dave held his breath and began to pull upwards. The creature, deceptively dormant, suddenly throbbed. Its tail wriggled and tightened around Frank's throat. "Stop, stop. It's not working."

Dave sighed, though was glad to get his hand off the alien. He was already sweating, breathing laboured as if that tentacle was wrapped about his own neck. Hal had noticed. "We may be able to cut it off," he suggested. "If we sever one of its legs, it may not be able to employ its defence mechanism."

"Or it could kill him outright."

Hal was silent. He knew Dave had already agreed.

Dave retrieved the scalpel and leant down to the animal. Up close, it was even worse, like it would leap off of Frank's face and onto his. His hand was trembling as he prepared to cut through one of the front limbs. "Dave, maybe I should -" Hal began.

"No. Let me."

Hal shut up, but Dave could still feel his wary eye on him. One slip and he could easily anger the alien, or hurt Frank. Dave was not sure which would be worse. He breathed out and let the blade press against the thing's leg. Its flesh was rubbery and surprisingly tough. Dave steadied his gloved hand on Frank's inert shoulder, and applied more pressure. The tail tightened again, but Dave did not give up. He pushed and pushed. A green liquid spurted out over the scalpel. Thinking quickly, he dropped the instrument and pressed a swab to the incision. The scalpel sizzled softly. "What is that?"

"It seems to be some kind of molecular acid," Hal said.

"Acid? For blood?" Dave removed the cotton slowly. The leak had stopped. "Did any reach the floor?"

"No. It's only on the scalpel and a few drops on the counter. Be careful."

"I am being careful, Hal." Dave tried to keep the frustration from his voice. He looked at the scalpel and saw the acid was starting to stop fizzing. It was a damn good defence mechanism. You don't dare kill it, otherwise it will kill you. He put the instrument down with a sigh. The alien settled again, tail tightening like a snake around its prey. "Any suggestions, Hal? We can't prize it off, and we can't cut it off. What do we do?"

"I can only suggest that we wait. In time, the creature may loosen its grip or detach entirely. It would be worth keeping a close watch on Dr Poole."

It sounded like a blind hope, but Dave nodded anyway. "Sure. I'll check up on him every thirty minutes. I suppose I'll have to take his rota for today."

"No, Dave. You need to rest. It has been an exhausting time for you. I will watch Frank."

Dave struggled to find words for a moment. It seemed ridiculous that the same voice who had just denied him entry to the ship was now speaking to him so softly and with such concern. He restrained himself from saying that Hal had partially been the cause of his exhaustion. "Okay, Hal," he said. "Wake me if there are any developments with Frank. Even the slightest thing."

"Of course, Dave."

Against his better judgement, Dave left the table. He didn't like leaving Frank in Hal's care so soon after what had happened, but he knew the computer would not relent until he was obeyed. He felt his eyes on him all the way to his sleeping pod.

More than that, he could still feel that creature under his fingers, eerie, unknown, and so alien.

* * *

Frank stayed comatose for the rest of the day, and the second. Dave slept a couple of hours after Hal sent him away, then awoke, swearing he could feel that alien tail lashed about his throat. It was only his blanket, curled around during his tossing and turning, but it sapped all his desire to sleep again. His dreams had been full of strange things floating in the gulf of space and birthing in the depths of their ship.

He tried to occupy his time. With Frank out of action, that was easy to do. He took over his duties, performing them alongside his own. It was exhausting, but it took his mind off whatever was lurking in the medical bay. There was no development so far. The creature stayed clamped to Frank's face, its only movement being the rise and fall of what Dave could only assume were air bags. He stayed away from it, letting Hal monitor Frank.

He was left with just the computer's companionship. Dave had never been frightened of the endless gulfs outside the ship - it was just part of his daily work environment, like a busy department store or an office. But suddenly, with Frank down, its crushing loneliness permeated through the ship. He was aware of the uninterrupted hum of the systems, the subtle shifts as the vessel sailed through the stars, the sheer size of it all. For the first time since leaving earth, he was without another human to speak with.

They had discussed waking up one of the other doctors. In an emergency, Kaminsky, Whitehead or Hunter could be pulled from their cryosleep. Dave had wandered past them, drifting in their pods, completely unaware of what was happening around them. They eventually decided to leave it that way. If Frank was infected, then they might be placed into great risk by being woken. The unspoken undercurrent to that decision said: if Frank was infected, then so was Dave, and there was no help for him.

The isolation and the whisper of disease had made Dave paranoid. Any cough seemed to tie his airways in knots. Whenever his head hurt even a little, he feared the poison of that alien twisting around his mind. He found himself itching without realising it. Hal conducted test upon test on him and they all came up normally. It didn't stop Dave's mind whirring around and around and around.

Around and around and around.

"Dave. Dave. It's your move."

Dave blinked and realised he was sitting in front of the digital chess board. Hal's watchful eye burrowed into him. "I'm sorry, Hal," he said. He tried to take in the game, the black and white squares blurring. "Bishop to D3."

"Queen to B5. Checkmate."

Hal's white queen flickered into position next to the unguarded king. It immediately disintegrated into pixels. The pieces returned to their places at the sides of the board. Dave sighed.

"You are not thinking clearly, Dave. Maybe chess isn't the best exercise for you at the moment. Can I suggest -"

"Have you contacted mission control?"

Hal paused. "Yes," he replied after too long a wait.

"What was their response?"

"We are to monitor Dr Poole and report any developments."

It was an expectedly clinical response, the human actualities of their situation stripped away to protocol. "We are transporting an unknown alien organism, in breach of quarantine laws."

"We are also 365 million miles away from Earth."

Dave swallowed. "I'm aware of that, Hal." Another question lingered in his mind, and he was almost too hesitant to ask it. "Where do you suppose that thing came from?"

"I don't have a definite answer for that. I have searched all possible networks but have unearthed nothing that might describe it. It seemed to appear at the same instant as the anomaly."

"The - anomaly. There were rumours about another 'anomaly' being dug up on the moon."

"It may be an error."

"You don't have errors, Hal. Where the hell did it come from?"

Hal was silent again. Dave listened to the soft hum of the ship, and thought Hal had disappeared into another region. "It is not there anymore. It has disappeared off all exterior cameras, and I cannot detect any shifts in gravitational force nor energy." A pause, and then Hal abruptly shifted back to his calm tone, as if soothing a child. "We have everything under control, Dave. There is nothing more we can do -"

" - but wait."

Dave looked away from Hal's eye, the bright red burning into his vision. Whatever Hal was documenting about Frank and the incident was being stored into the massive computer banks, ready for mission control to examine and peruse. Even the immaterial touch of that knowledge felt as though it was corrupting the ship, like the alien had grown to a massive scale and was squeezing the life out of the Discovery. Squeezing and squeezing and squeezing...

Dave's throat tightened again.

"Frank is still stable, Dave. He is running a slight fever, but nothing I can't rectify. Would you like another game of chess or maybe you should draw if it is too taxing?"

"I have to perform the checks on the pod bay."

"I -"

"Maybe later, Hal."

Dave left him, following the well-trodden paths through the heart of the habitation sphere. Hal's red eye was still imprinted on top of his vision, and also the black and white squares of the chess board. Except this time, he could not see his opponent's pieces. Only feel them, lurking there, unknown, but ready.

* * *

 **a/n: I have soooo much to write at the moment but last night, i suddenly got the urge to return to this mega old fanfic. My affection for Alien and 2001 has never shifted so it was great to go back to this. The first three quarters or so of this chapter were written literally years ago so I had to edit it quite a lot, so apologises if it is an absolute mess. A lot of this fic was actually prototype for my Alienation fanfic too ~**


End file.
